"Since you've seen the old man's Bankai—and you know that the Zanpakutō I wield is Wanchuan Kaikai, the strongest water-element Zanpakutō second only to Ryūjin Jakka—then you should already understand…"
"You're not walking out of this Repentance Palace alive."
Kuchiki Ginrei's voice was like the roar of an ancient tide—calm on the surface, but surging with pressure beneath.
"Speak!"
"You've hidden in the shadows. Pulled strings behind the scenes. Taken Kōga away, manipulated him, and sent you here to assassinate me."
"Confess."
Even with blood still trailing from his abdomen, even while grasping the hilt of the Zanpakutō that had pierced him, Kuchiki Ginrei stood tall—like an immovable cliff before a storm.
Killing Tōsen Kaname immediately was not the priority.
What mattered more was discovering who the true mastermind was.
"The one who planned this—who is it?"
"Who took Kōga away?"
"Who gave you the order to come here and stab me?"
His voice rose, and so did his Reiatsu.
Each word he spoke poured into the chamber like crashing waves. The deep prison trembled under the pressure, as if drowning in a rising sea.
Tōsen Kaname stood in silence, shoulders tense.
His face was calm—but his body betrayed him. Every muscle quivered under the weight of Kuchiki Ginrei's oppressive Reiatsu.
He had mastered Bankai, yes.
But the gap between him and Kuchiki Ginrei was still vast. Not only in strength—but in heritage, in experience, in sheer force of will.
If it weren't for the surprise attack and the nature of Enma Kōrogi, he would've already been cut down.
"Speak!"
Kuchiki Ginrei's shout boomed like thunder in a canyon. His spiritual pressure surged violently, slamming toward Tōsen like a tsunami.
"Patriarch Ginrei," Tōsen finally replied, calm and steady despite the invisible crushing force bearing down on him.
"Lord Aiyan asked me to greet you on his behalf."
The words struck like lightning.
Kuchiki Ginrei's pupils contracted in disbelief. His face stiffened.
In that instant of shock, Tōsen used his moment—retracting his blade, leaping back, trying to break away from the churning sea of Reiatsu.
"Aiyan…?"
"Impossible."
"Absolutely impossible!"
Kuchiki Ginrei regained himself quickly, voice rising in outrage.
"You're dying, Tōsen Kaname—and you dare spout nonsense like that? You think using his name will protect you?!"
To him, invoking Aiyan's name was a cheap trick.
Aiyan—who doted on his younger brother like no other.
Aiyan—who had stood before Aizen after the assassination,
How could someone like that be the architect of this entire scheme?
In Kuchiki Ginrei's eyes, Tōsen was gambling with the most unthinkable lie he could muster.
But then—
"No, Captain Ginrei."
A calm voice echoed from the shadows behind.
"Don't blame Tōsen Kaname. He didn't lie."
Kuchiki Ginrei froze.
The voice was unmistakable.
Even the roiling Reiatsu in the room stilled for a moment, hanging like mist.
"Whether it's the blade in your stomach… or the hands behind this entire plan… it's me."
Out from the shadows stepped a man.
A long-sleeved haori swayed with each step. Short black hair. Framed glasses resting neatly across the bridge of his nose. Zanpakutō hanging from his waist.
Kuchiki Ginrei turned sharply, breath caught in his throat.
Aiyan.
"It was you…"
"You're the black hand behind all this?"
The words escaped him, not as a question—but as the dawning of truth.
But Aiyan only gave a gentle smile.
"Not just me," he said, correcting him casually. "Us."
As he stepped forward, another figure emerged behind him.
He was dressed in standard black robes, no haori. But the resemblance was undeniable.
Short Brown hair. Framed glasses. Cool, unreadable expression.
"Aizen…"
Kuchiki Ginrei's knees nearly buckled.
The shock reverberated through every fiber of his being.
His mind, his instincts, his history—all cried out that this couldn't be. That the two brothers—Soul Society's youngest captains, the twin stars—couldn't possibly be the conspirators behind this elaborate rebellion.
"Why…"
"Why would you do this?!"
He was furious.
He was confused.
He was utterly rattled.
Aiyan just tilted his head slightly.
"Why?"
"You'll have to be more specific."
"Why did I separate you from Kōga?"
"Why did I force you to cast him aside?"
"Why did I replace him with Tōsen Kaname?"
"Why let Tōsen stab you?"
"Why give you the chance to execute Kōga?"
He let each question fall, like stones into a bottomless well.
"I've done so many things, I really don't know which 'why' you're asking about."
He spread his hands, smiling as if none of it concerned him.
Kuchiki Ginrei's mouth opened, but no words came.
He was a master of politics, schemes, and manipulation.
But right now—he was being played by someone else's game.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Aiyan continued.
"How hard you worked to eliminate Kōga."
"You were even willing to risk your daughter's grief. Even your family's face."
"All to get rid of him."
"And yet, that final strike…"
"…was aimed at your own heart."
Aiyan turned toward his brother.
"Aizen, did you know? That blade Kyōka Suigetsu placed in your chest—it missed your heart by a hair."
"If I hadn't pulled my hand at the last moment, you'd be dead."
He smiled again.
"A brother like that, are you sure he really treats you as family?"
Kuchiki Ginrei bit his lip, struggling to stay composed.
He looked from Aiyan… to Aizen.
If it were any other day, he would've challenged them. Fought them. Unleashed his Bankai again without hesitation.
But now?
His chest still bled from Tōsen's earlier stab. His spiritual energy was fluctuating. And more than that—he didn't know what Aiyan's Zanpakutō truly did.
No one did.
Not even Yamamoto Genryūsai.
"You…"
"You've played us all…
Aiyan turned his gaze back toward him.
"You're not the first to realize that," he said calmly. "Even Kōga figured it out—eventually."
"But there's a difference between knowing you're in a trap… and escaping it."
Silence hung between them.
Then, Aizen pushed up his glasses slightly.
"You want to talk about deception, Captain Ginrei?"
"Then let me ask you something."
"When did you start believing that my Kyōka Suigetsu was hypnotized by Muramasa?"
His voice was soft.
But the words dropped like a guillotine.
"What…?"
Ginrei's eyes widened.
"Wait… Hypnosis…?"
He staggered half a step back.
Images flashed through his mind—fragments of memory, distorted reflections, twisted illusions.
Then—clarity.
It hit him like a thunderclap.
"You…!"
"Your Zanpakutō isn't Kyōka Suigetsu at all!"
"Or rather…"
"…what you've shown the world has never been its true ability!"
The realization struck with full force.
And Aizen simply smiled.
"Oh? You've caught on."
"But if Kyōka Suigetsu isn't of the water type…"
"…then what kind of Zanpakutō do you think it is, Captain Kuchiki?"
His voice was calm, teasing—like a puppeteer speaking to a doll that had just noticed its strings.
Kuchiki Ginrei didn't respond.
He couldn't.
The trap was already closed.
And he had just realized he was standing in its center all along.